


something taken, something new

by meowrails



Category: Doctor Strange (2016), Iron Man (Movies), Marvel Cinematic Universe
Genre: Anxiety, Canon Disabled Character, Canon-Typical Violence, Character Study, Chronic Pain, Established Relationship, Fluff, Hand Jobs, Happy Ending, Implied/Referenced Self-Harm, M/M, Minor Original Character(s), Miscommunication, Panic Attacks, Past Drug Addiction, Problems with technology, Relationship Problems, Whump, entitlement
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-09-27
Updated: 2018-10-10
Packaged: 2019-07-18 03:41:32
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 3
Words: 14,541
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16110050
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/meowrails/pseuds/meowrails
Summary: The ChronicConnection implement and app allows a person that lives with chronic or illness-induced pain to transfer their burden temporarily to a willing loved one.Tony and Stephen sign up as beta testers.Inspired by the Tor short story,A Burden Shared.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> i've had this idea in my head for so long, i'm glad i can finally post it. you do not have to read the original short story at all to read this, all i took from it was the technology it explored. i'm almost done with chapter two and it'll be posted next week.
> 
> i tried to research as much as i could for this fic, taking a few liberties with the fake technology. i based it off my own experiences with pain (though mine is in my back and nowhere near as strong and constant as one caused by nerve damage) and how i believe stephen would react based on canon. everyone experiences their disability differently but _please_ let me know if i got anything wrong. 
> 
> this fic is in tony's pov, but it's really about stephen. i think what i made tony do is in character, but i apologize if i made him kinda... well, you'll see.
> 
> as always, comment and kudos are appreciated!

In hindsight, the biggest source of Tony’s frustration about the app was that he hadn’t been the one to come up with the idea first.

It’s not exactly his area of expertise. Tony values engineering and artificial intelligence because he _doesn’t_ need to work with other people or know how they work. He’ll never admit it, but Tony’s knowledge about the human body was only around the level of a master’s degree at best. He could always get a proper doctorate in neurology and cardiology like he’s meant to. He doubts it would be too hard, but he doesn’t have the time. And this woman already beat him to the punch of the century.

He sits back on his lab chair, telling FRIDAY to refresh the registration website every three seconds, another window keeping tabs on the app and website activity in real time that he had access to as an investor. Tony usually couldn’t keep track of how many projects he’d invested on, usually it was anything that seemed plausible and interesting. But ChronicConnection was both _implausible_ and interesting. Still, he couldn’t hide his shock when he saw the numbers. One hundred thousand signed up as testers and five-hundred thousand in pre-registration in under one minute and counting. Despite all the advertisements, television demonstrations, and assurance on all the tests they had done, Tony would think most of the population would be adamant on any sort of technology that directly affected and controlled the pain in your body.

Even so, early registration forms are already packed. He smiles. It’s a growing union of tenderness and empathy -- proof that humans will do ridiculous things for each other. He feels like Stephen in the moments when he cries at the beauty of all living things. People who are willing to take on the pain of someone they love. He isn’t as eloquent as Stephen, he can’t say anything about this that sounds ancient and wise, but it’s a silver lining in a changing world.

The face of Yarielis Hernandez shines on the face of every news outlet. Tony tells FRIDAY to send her a set of flowers as congratulations and updates on her mother’s new wheelchair.

He wonders if Stephen is watching the news as well. With his expertise in neuroscience, even if he can’t work on it directly, he has to be following the announcement that probably every doctor in the world is glued to. Yet in the recent times they’ve met, Stephen has not mentioned anything about ChronicConnection once.

He sends him a message anyway. Something casual. Don't reference the news directly. Don't even mention the name of it. Stephen can see through him like an open book, even through an LED screen. He could say Stephen reads him like a Kindle, if he wants to fit the times. He sends: **big news, huh?** and hits send without a second thought.

Stephen responds minutes later. He says: **No.** Capitalized and punctuated.

He waits for some further explanation but gets none.

Tony signs up for early registration just a few seconds after.

 

\---

 

Tony makes sure they're somewhere public when he tells Stephen the news. Stephen would never argue with him in public, but it doesn’t mean he will talk to him, either.

The sorcerer stares at the screen of Tony's phone in silence, reading the confirmation email he received the day before with all the details: how the transfer device is implemented into the nervous system, how it can work from any distance and can be shared with an infinite amount of people, the costs depending on the kind of pain transferred, etcetera. Tony already knows all the in and outs of the process. Stephen takes his sweet ass time scrolling through the email. Tony knows it's on purpose, the man is a speed reader with photographic memory. He doesn't comment on it.

Stephen finally puts the phone down and crosses his arm, leaning back on his seat. His tea has not been touched since they arrived. Tony sips on his coffee, noticing that Stephen hides his hands from view.

“Why?” Stephen asks.

“It's gonna rain tomorrow,” Tony says.

“That's not an answer.”

“It hurts you more when it rains, right? Thought I could have a turn at it instead of watching you sulk and wince all day.”

“That’s a myth, actually. Ache in joints is affected more by temperature and barometric pressure,” Stephen says, raising his tea to his lips and avoiding the elephant in the coffee shop.

“Babe...”

Stephen grits his teeth, “I’ve had my scars for almost three years in normal time, over one-thousand in the times I have lived. I think I can handle an ache now and then.”

Tony sighs, “I never said you couldn't handle it. What I'm saying is that you don't _have_ to.”

“And what if I want to?” Stephen replies with a bite to his voice. Any sort of bitterness is outweighed by how tired he sounds. Tony knows from experience that he didn't sleep last night. Neither did he.

“Why would you willingly want to just be in pain all the fucking time?” Tony can't help but get anger, bitterness spewing from his words like a brewing poison. “You know how many people this is going to help? We can be the first one’s to try it. I'm offering to do this fo-- with you because I care about you. You've paid enough, baby. Not everything has to be a penance.”

Stephen lowers his head as he speaks, not making eye contact. “Anthony, I've dealt with pain no one has ever felt before. Sudden pain you couldn't even begin imagining how it feels. But my hands, the scars... they're a soft, constant ache.” He uncrosses his arms and gently rests his hands on the table, palm up. Tony focuses his eyes on their unending tremble. “If I dig deep enough, delve into magick that most people avoid, I have no doubt that I could get rid of the problem entirely, but I won't. They stop me from falling back into bad habits. I don't want to be the person I used to be.”

“You're not going to.”

“How can you be so sure?”

“Because I also have a fucking reminder,” Tony taps the arc on his chest, the _clink-clink_ sound quiet among the conversations and music filling up the café. “And I like to think I haven't fallen into any bad habits. This hurts sometimes too, y’know. Not as bad as your hands, maybe, but the fact that you already had a a self-harm excuse speech prepared is a good enough sign that you won't become a selfish asshole rich guy again  any time soon. You already have me for that.”

Stephen pauses, “it's not self-harm.”

“Are you sure?”

He tears his gaze away from Tony again.

Tony reaches over to take one of Stephen's hand and traces patterns over his palm. Stephen takes it as a gesture of affection. Stephen likes to close himself off from any sort of good thing sometimes. There are days where he believe that any time wasted on being happy is time wasted on making other people happy. The moment he starts, Stephen pulls away. Tony swallows, and shrugs, pretending he doesn't care.

“...What if I'm thrown into battle during a transfer? And you’re the one who feels everything instead?”

“That's specifics we can work out, baby. And I can handle it, you know I can. Shut up -- you know I can,” Tony stops him before he can argue. For once, Stephen doesn't retaliate. “I'm not forcing you to do this. I can cancel the registration and we can pretend it doesn't exist. But it's something I want to try with you. We can have it done today, even. Before it rains.”

Stephen opens his mouth to speak and closes it again. He’s a quiet man, but it’s not often he’s left stunned to silence. For someone so intelligent and brilliant, Stephen cannot understand the concept of anyone sacrificing anything for him. He’d die a thousand times over just to prove how much he cares but short-circuits at the idea of anyone caring back. Like a program glitching and refusing to work out a command. Tony isn’t good at understanding people like he is at technology, but he knows what he’s doing has to prove something. Something Stephen isn’t used to.

They never ask each other anything. They barely tell each other anything. Stephen and Tony are big proponents in letting actions speak louder than words. Tony holds out his palms and hopes Stephen will let him take the part of himself he hates the most. When the tip of Stephen’s fingers touch his own, it’s electrifying. Whether it’s the magic flowing through them, the dozens of metal bars resting inside his flesh, or something else he isn’t ready to understand, he doesn’t know. Stephen’s hands rest over his own. Every action causes a reaction. Tony takes it as an unspoken _yes_ among dozen of other unspoken words.

Stephen doesn’t look at him. His cheeks are flushed and looking uncharacteristically shy. If Tony wasn’t so hopelessly head over heels he’d say something that matters. Something out loud and honest like Stephen deserves. But Stephen has never expected him to. He doesn’t what to consider what that says about him.

“Okay?”

Stephen gulps, “there’s no harm in trying.”

That’s enough to make him smile.

 

\---

 

Tony wakes up and assessed the level of pain.

He knows the app can tell him if he opens it. It uses the universal one-to-ten scales as registered from the data of over a million users, but Tony doesn’t need an app to tell him that it’s a solid three. Maybe a four. Not enough for him to whine and hiss but still enough to be annoying.

Tony sits up, groggily, and reaches a hand to wipe at his eyes. The ache goes from three to six out of nowhere, he assumed Stephen moved his hands beside him. Tony huffs at the sudden change but isn’t surprised. He reaches to the side to pick up his glass of water. That’s when he notices the shaking.

Stephen manages to grab the glass cup before it falls to the ground. Tony hadn’t noticed he’s already awake.

The sorcerer holds up the cup to his face. Tony accepts the help and takes a couple of gulps of water.

“That will happen,” Stephen says quietly. He sets the cup back on his nightstand. “Did you sleep well?”  
“Not really,” Tony shrugs. “Didn’t expect to, though.”

“Well, thank you for taking it for the night, now give it back. I know you have work to do.” Stephen holds his hand out for his phone. Tony cannot help but notice how steady they are.

“Hey, now. Let me see if I can handle it for the morning at least, okay? This is my first time taking your hands and you weren’t even conscious for most of it? Doesn’t sound fair.”

Stephen looks like he’s about to argue, but doesn’t. “Alright...” He glances at Tony again. “I’m going to shower.”

The man stands, wearing only a t-shirt and his briefs. What a sight for sore eyes, Tony thinks, his focus drifting to the curve of Stephen's backside. He moves to rests his hands behind his head almost instinctively and quickly realizes it's a bad idea.

Shower already turned on, Stephen speaks from inside the bathroom. “Want to join me?”

Tony doesn't need to answer. He hops off the bed and throws his underwear to the side, knowing Stephen won't mind. The sorcerer is already in the shower, washing himself thoroughly. Tony steps in beside him, not even pretending he doesn't know the implications of their situation.

The tremble in his hands might make things a bit difficult, though. He quickly learns that hot water feels fucking _wonderful_. It answers the question to why Stephen always showers or takes a bath until the room is full of steam.

Stephen turns to face Tony, smiling when he figures out what his lover has been staring at the entire time. “Want me to wash you?”

“Sure,” Tony stands with his back under the rushing water and let's Stephen gently run a washcloth though his body, steady hands moving against his chest.

“Is it hard for you to do this on your own?” Tony asks.

“Not really. It's easier with a washcloth. It's just tricky to wash my hands,” Stephen hums and moves to Tony's back now, another hand running through his hair.

“So you just take long-ass showers to waste my water?” Tony jokes.

“No, I also like to take the time to think. And not have to hear you for at least a couple of minutes.”

Tony smiles, “bullshit. You love listening to me.”

Stephen drops the washcloth beside them, satisfied with his work. He moves closer, using his height to his advantage. With the hot water and the look on his boyfriend's face, Tony feels like he’s going to faint.

“Yes, I do,” Stephen voice rumbles against his ear. “Especially when you're not talking.”

Tony rests his hands on Stephen's small hips. “I love it when you shut me up.”

Stephen leans in to kiss Tony, both if his hands buried in the man's hair. Tony gasps in response, a smile on his face as they kiss. Softly, softly, pressing close together. They have all the time in the world.

Stephen's hand lowers between them and takes Tony's cock, stroking it slowly and feeling it grow harder with increasing interest.

“You gonna fuck me in the shower? Really, baby?” Tony asks, obviously interested in the possibility, but they're not in their twenties anymore.

“I want to touch you,” Stephen sounds desperate. “I need to... Please. Let me touch you.” His free hands moves up Tony’s back and to his neck, fingertips grazing his unshaven jaw.

Tony gulps, “Yeah. Yeah, okay.”

Stephen looks down between them, his hands still developing Tony's cock no matter how hard it gets. He runs his thumb over the head, almost entranced. It's the first time Stephen actually _feels_ him, without any pain or numbness to intervene. Tony rests his hands on the bathroom tile behind him and let's the man do whatever he wants.

Stephen's free hand ghosts over Tony's cheek, and he knows Stephen wants to feel his face. Tony nods, mouth slightly agape. Stephen's strokes his cock with a bit more pressure, causing Tony to moan. He feels scarred fingertips move to gently touch the crow's feet beside his eyes, his dark circles, his lips, all while the bathroom fills up with heat like a sauna. Stephen licks at the water and sweat on his neck, nasty fuck, moving to touch his balls while nibbling on his ear. Tony wants nothing more than to return the favor, but his hands feel numb right now. He wonders how many time Stephen has touched him without feeling anything.

“Baby,” Tony groans, “that feels great. Faster.”

Stephen obliges, his hand is holding Tony by the base of his neck, thumb stroking his chin as his fingers touch his hair. “Anthony...”

“Talk to me, sweetheart.”

“I want to touch you like this all the time,” his voice is shaking, low and full of _so much..._ well, everything, that Tony feels overwhelmed. “I wish I could have... before--”

“It's okay. Keep going. Fuck.” Tony moved his hips at the rhythm of Stephen’s hand. How the hell did he not know Stephen was _this_ good at handjobs? Oh, right. It was hard to focus with Stephen looking at him like that.

“There's so much I want to do to you. Tony... That's it. That's it.” Tony’s hands fly to Stephen's biceps, holding them tightly and he felt himself getting close. “I love seeing you like this. Anthony. Cum on my hand. Please.”

Tony does, finishing with gritted teeth and sharp breaths. His hips stop moving and he leans back against the tile, clenching and unclenching his hands instinctively even if they do nothing.

“N-Need me to--?” Tony breathes out, looking at Stephen's cock.

Stephen holds himself up by leaning a hand beside Tony's head. It gives Tony a great view of his boyfriend's body, water falling over his back and leaning down a bit to meet his eyes as his free hand reach down to stroke his own cock. “No. I want to. Just watch me.” He's panting as he speaks.

Fucking voyeur. Tony licks his lips at the sight, unsure of what to do except look at Stephen's hand pump his cock quickly. Stephen's eyes roam across his entire body like he's a piece of meat. Stephen’s mouth his open, occasionally saying _fuck_ or sweating in an ancient language he doesn't recognize. Tony takes the opportunity to lean in and kiss him again. Open-mouthed and desperate. Stephen looks delectable. He can't stand just standing still.

“That’s it, baby,” Tony says against Stephen's ear. “You look so fucking hot like this. Stephen. You can cum on me if you want. You'd like that, sweetheart? Wanna mark me?” He laughs a bit at his words, knowing Stephen will definitely get riled up by this.

Stephen goes along with Tony and cums on his stomach with a soft whimper, almost stumbling where he stands before Tony holds him. The joints at his wrist flare up for a moment but it dies down fairly quickly. The quick movements from Stephen touching him and himself must have caused it, Tony infers.

Still panting, Stephen gives Tony a smile. “Can't mark you if washes right off afterwards.”

“Smartass.”

Stephen reaches to turn off the shower after making sure they're at least decent and helps Tony out of the shower. He dries him off, the afterglow giving him a carefree smile Tony doesn’t get to see too often, but he knows that they're almost always just for him. “Who says I haven't marked you with magic?”

“How?” Tony dries off his hair himself while Stephen waves a hand in the air and immediately is dry and wearing clothes again. An old punk band t-shirt, a cardigan, and jeans that hug his legs quite nicely.

“You have an aura of protection bestowed upon you by a Master of the Mystic Arts. Only those with a trained eye can see it.”

“I seriously can't tell if you're joking or not.” Tony says, starting to dress himself into something equally casual.

Stephen only winks back.

With them both dressed and standing in the middle of the room, the afterglow of sex quickly fades into awkwardness. Stephen glances at Tony’s phone. “I can have it back now, it's alright.”

“No, no. I promised you an entire day, right? Seriously, babe, I can handle it.”

Stephen sighs and gives him a soft smile. “I know you can but I... I would feel more comfortable if you'd give it back. Maybe later in the day. I promise.”

Tony doesn't see a reason why he should say no. He takes his phone and taps the _transfer_ command on the app, feeling the slow relief as the pain leaves his hand and goes back to Stephen's. Stephen looks down at his hands, a familiar tremor building back within seconds. He lowers them again. His face is unreadable.

“Why don't we go get breakfast?” Stephen suggests, putting on his sling ring.

“No need, we can walk. There's a nearby Cuban place I helped open that has great coffee.” Tony grabs his keys and tells FRIDAY her usual closing up commands and they head for the elevator.

The entire time, Stephen keeps clenching and unclenching his fist. Not in a way that would alleviate any pain, Tony tried to do that a couple of times in the night, but in a way that hurts. That will make it ache more on purpose. Is it to make him feel something? To make sure It's there? A reminder?

Tony then realizes Stephen has always been one to harm himself. Sacrifice himself to the point that his selflessness becomes selfish to the people who love him. How often does he silently cry for help? How often has Tony not noticed? Tony unconsciously taps at his arc reactor as they wait for the elevator to reach the ground. Stephen tries his best to be tortured.

That night, Tony asks for the pain to the transferred back. Stephen gives him a soft, fake smile and tells him he will be alright.

It rains. Neither of them fall asleep.

 

\---

 

The decide to take baby steps.

In the nights Stephen can stay at his penthouse, Tony will take his pain when he's not working, or not building something that requires steady hands. During those moments, Stephen takes the time to do all the things he couldn't indulge in. It took him a while to understand the idea that Tony was giving him time to _relax_ , and eventually agree to Tony's insistence that he got him a piano just as long as it wasn't too expensive. Tony traded loud rock songs in exchange for Stephen's improvisation, starting off shy and going into a crescendo full of enjoyment. Turns out the guy is very good at blues, and can play a piano cover of any Bowie song by heart.

But Stephen is a practically a monk now -- or at least that's what Tony keeps calling him -- and he never gives himself more than two hours of piano playing. Even an inkling of happiness makes Stephen feel like he's falling back into his bad habits, which is part of the reason he won't take pain meds unless he really needs to. Turns out Stephen's bad habits didn't only extend to spending money on watches and cars. The rest of his painless day is spent studying, preparing spells, or getting the sleep he didn't get during the week.

Tony, however, doesn't have the kind of self-discipline Stephen has, but he can't force his boyfriend to take pain pills. He deals with it in silence. The things he does for love and sex...

But Stephen deserves _better_. He deserves to get rid of the dark circles under his eyes. Tony accepted long ago that his are permanent, so are all the other marks on his body imprinted by bad decisions. Surely another bit of pain won’t hurt him any more than he already does on an almost daily basis.

Tony runs on caffeine and panic. Stephen runs on tea and a selfless love for the universe. A man like him shouldn't have to do everything alone.

The next step is taking his pain when they're defending the planet. It takes Stephen a lot of pressure to finally give in, and a lot of yelling.

“Just give it to me!” Tony yells out, currently trying to shoot at alien spaceships at the same time.

From the ground, Stephen grits his teeth in focus as he attempts to do a complicates spell along with Wong, but keeps failing at the hand gestures. It's a new spell that requires two people, he had told them, and it takes him longer than usual to get the movements right.

Stephen growls, “now's not the time!”

“I think now is _exactly_ the time!,” says Tony

Wong butts in, he never has the patience to tolerate their bickering for very long, “Damn it, Strange, just do it and help me finish this spell.”

Stephen gives in, giving Tony the verbal confirmation he needed to transfer the pain through the app he already connected to FRIDAY’s interface. The suit, thankfully, does not require much hand coordination, mostly using vocal and automated commands, leaving him to continue to explode ships with ease and Stephen takes care of fallen debris, creating portals and shield to help it from falling on property and civilians.

Eventually, Wong and Stephen finally finish the spell that allows them to teleport the mothership directly to the galactic union detention center. Wong agrees to stay to take care of the politics. No one tells you that another part of being a space wizard is being a inter-dimensional delegate for your home planet, and Wong ends up losing at rock, paper, scissors.

“Alright, thank you,” Stephen says, gesturing at Tony's hands. “Works over, give it back.”

Tony grumbles, “You're always so eager.”

“You're confusing eagerness with me not wanting to cross any lines.”

“What line? I’ve told you fifty times already. I'm fine doing this for you.”

“I know you are!” Stephen mouth draws out into a thin line, and noticed Tony's furrowed brows and his of pain. “I overexerted myself back there and you're suffering the consequence.”

“Nothing beyond the usual,” Tony says in clear discomfort and pain. It wasn't aching like usual, but pulsing and stabbing at his palm and fingers in waves. He could almost feel it down his wrist. “Baby, just let me take it for a bit. An hour or so. Until we get home, that sound good?”

It doesn't, if he guesses from Stephen’s expression, but the man doesn't protest until they get home.

Maybe Stephen forgets to ask for it back. Maybe Stephen knows Tony will argue that he can take it for a little while longer. He doesn't say anything and gives Stephen the bottle of extra strength pain killer he usually refuses to take. Stephen takes two pills and swallowed them down without a word, not making eye-contact, then washing a wave of relief slowly wash over Tony as it kicks inside Stephen's body and Tony feels it through his own skin. Maybe Stephen just wants to see how long he'll last.

And Tony loves a challenge.

Except Stephen can end it whenever he wants to. The app goes two ways, Stephen can simply use his phone and press a button that give his pain back automatically, without authorization of the receiver. Stephen doesn't like using his phone -- the tremble in his hands makes it hard to type, using voice commands is always a pain in the ass, and he resents most phones as the one of the things that caused him his pain in the first place. Tony gave him a StarkPhone as gift. Most of the time, Stephen lets it collect dust. Recently, he has to use to force Tony to stop.

Tony knows what his limits are, just as Stephen knows his own. In his head, it turns into a competition. He sneaks Stephen's phone away when he winces and whimpers during bad nights and takes it on for himself. Tony always wakes up with two hours of sleep and a stern look from the sorcerer before he's forced back into a painless slumber. Stephen always ends up winning over Tony's pain threshold. In a way, he keeps losing too.

It takes him months of this endless give and take for Tony to come up with a solution. Perhaps, if something were to break, Tony would be forced to take on Stephen’s pain for a while. A week or two -- nothing more, nothing less -- just enough time for Stephen to remember what it's like to feel like his old self. Or for Tony to make himself suffer on purpose. Even without alcohol, Tony keeps finding ways to get drunk.

He takes Stephen's phone in the middle of the night and cracks his knuckles, knowing it'll be the last time he'll be able to do that for a while.

He isn't sure who he's doing this for: Stephen's self-torture or his own. Well. He has two weeks to find out.

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> alright, part two! i added an extra chapter because the second part ended up being a lot longer than i thought it would be, which i'll post next week! 
> 
> this is based on how stephen and tony would act and i took some liberties for the fiction and on the fake technology, but once again, please let me know if there is anything i got wrong when dealing with chronic pain. 
> 
> comments and kudos are appreciated!
> 
> warnings for discussions of drug addiction and canon-typical violence

“What do you mean it won't transfer?”

When Tony broke the news to Stephen, he didn’t expect him to be so angry about it.

“It just won't transfer. Look,” He presses the command on the app over and over to prove his point, on both his phone and Stephen's. Stephen's scowl only gets wider. “It's stuck in my hands until it's fixed.”

“How soon  _ can _ it be fixed? Is it a widespread problem? Dear gods, I can only imagine how much issues this will create with other users who transfer pain from much worse cases.” 

Stephen's scowl turns into pure worry, back into doctor mode. “Cancer patients unable to feel their symptoms they're sharing with someone else. Parent's stuck with their child's illness. This is a mess.”

Tony interjects, trying to ease the panic, “This is just an outlier. I already contacted Hernandez with what happened and she should be able to send me some patch notes soon.”

“How soon?”

“A week. Maybe two, tops.”

Stephen looks at Tony's hands. “You're an expert programmer, you can't fix it yourself?’

“It's not my program, and I don't specialize with tech that's directly inside a human like that. The arc reactor was a lucky, desperate shot. I don't want to end up hurting you.” Truth be told, it’s easier to break a program he isn't entirely familiar with than to fix it back together. But he knows exactly what he did to the code in the apps, he didn’t tamper with the actual nano-mechanisms they implanted in their body. 

Stephen shakes his head, “but... you're stuck with my pain, Tony. Not just in my hands. It's  _ all _ of my pain. I have duties I need to fulfill as a sorcerer that require bodily sacrifice. There are days when I can barely hold a spoon to eat. Are you sure you can handle this for so long?”

This was it. This was the question he'd been waiting for. Tony stands up straight and look at Stephen's sharp, blue-green eyes with as much conviction in his voice as he can muster. “Yes. Yes I can.”

Stephen eyes him carefully before he sighs, “I should stay here while it lasts. I'll tell Wong what happened so he can cover for me for the time being. Give me a moment.”

The sorcerer walks off and pulls out his phone to call his friend. Tony feels a wave of relief wash over him, surprised that his idea worked, only for it to be replaced by a small sharp stab in his wrist out of nowhere. Tony hisses and raises his hand to stretch out his wrist just like Stephen taught him how to do. 

He knows how to stretch his hands properly, has the pain medication ready for both of them and, best of all, he has Stephen to help and stay the entire time. It was going to be hard, obviously, but he can't believe it could be  _ that _ bad. 

It's only a week, after all.

  
  


\---

 

The first two days, by all accounts, are fine. He manages to get some sleep with Stephen beside him. Stephen offers Tony his yellow gloves that are enchanted to alleviate his pain on difficult days when he's too busy to rest his hands. Tony would rather go through any pain imaginable than to wear those ugly gloves. Stephen, obviously, wears them all day on purpose.

He's incredibly protective and worried for Tony the entire time. Tony wonders if he was like this when he was a Doctor, before he became corrupted. He makes Tony special tea, helps him type, keeps him occupied so he doesn't focus on even the small, lingering ache on the easier days. Maybe he's occupying himself as well. Stephen is terrified that he’ll fall into bad habits again in just the span of a few days. Tony gave up trying to convince him otherwise. 

The only thing the sorcerer indulges in is playing a bit of piano, though that only last for a couple of minutes before he closes it and stays still, face unreadable. Tony has to snap his fingers to bring his out of his daze. When he isn't doting over Tony, Stephen brought some books from the sanctum to translate some texts for the students in his magic school who can't read Sanskrit or Latin. 

It isn't until he's forced to separate from Stephen that Tony realizes how much of a pain his... well, pain could be.

“It  _ what _ ?!”

“The app must have some sort of bug and refuses to transfer the pain back. I don't think it's the actual implant,” Tony says calmly, rehearsed. Pepper gawks at him.

“Jesus, Tony. Are you going to be okay? How’s Stephen doing?”

“I'm fine, and he's fine too. He looks more worked about it than I am,” Tony chuckles. 

Pepper doesn't seem amused. She shakes her head, still in disbelief. “He's had that injury for how long? Three or four years, right? I can’t imagine how it must feel to have it just... taken away and then you have to see your partner go through it instead. Sheesh.”

Tony purses his lips. Pepper is way too perceptive for her own good.

“Yeah, uh... let's just continue like nothing's changed, alright? Seriously, Peps. I'll be fine.”

She nods and does exactly that, knowing too well how to drift from an uncomfortably personal moment into a professional one. She’s had to do it for so long with Tony that it feels like an instinct.

They keep the day going as normal, filed with the more boring parts of Stark Industries  _ and  _ Avengers administration that everyone forgets he has to do apart from saving the world. No one would sign up to be a hero if they knew how much paperwork was involved. He has two employees that monitor and deal with Peter's friendly-neighborhood work alone. 

Most of it just requires a stamp or a electronic signature, but when more official documents come apart, Tony realizes he can barely write his name, if even write at all. How does Stephen do this?

He recalls the memories of Stephen signing Avengers documents when he helps, and remembers the childlike, shaky handwriting of his signature. Tony grumbles under his breath and sets the pen aside. 

“Pepper, can you sign this for me?” He sighs, hating that he has to ask for things.

She studies him for a moment and signs the paper in silence, copying his signature perfectly. She's the only person who know his secret signature, the one he only uses for the top secret stuff. Pepper takes the stack of papers and gives them to a secretary who closes the door behind her, leaving them alone in the room.

“You should take the time off, Tony. That can be hard to deal with, and you won't be able to do any heavy duty stuff with that injury.”

“Hey, Stephen can--”

“Stephen is a powerful wizard who can conjure up shields and transport himself to any place in the universe. He also fights from a distance, you tend to fight more close range. I don't think it's a good idea for you to take up the suit like this.”

“But if I need to--”

She interrupts him again, “Oh, I know you will. But I'm not letting you leave without letting you know what I think.”

Tony can't help but smirk, “That's why you’re my co-CEO.” He responds, deliberately not addressing any of her concerns. But she's right, he could take a few days off. If that's the case, he might limit the time for just a week instead of two. He doesn't want to be out of the loop for too long.

He rests a hand on her shoulder and hisses all of the sudden, feeling a random stab of pain in his knuckles as he tried to curl his fingers. He retreats it hand holds it close to him, grimacing. Either it was his own movements or Stephen doing something, whatever it is he gets up to when Tony isn’t there. 

Pepper looks at him and sighs, “I'm telling Happy to take you home.”

For once, he doesn't complain.

 

\---

 

This time, he does complain. A lot. Loudly. 

He’s only doing so because Stephen isn’t here to watch him yell every time a random stab of pain goes across his body, but he’s pretty sure that he’d be acting exactly the same if the sorcerer was here to see him.

He feels another sudden ache on stomach, like someone just punched Stephen in the gut. Tony drives his fists into his keyboard, watching the string of code he was working on suddenly turn into a random mess. He groans and hits backspace until it’s all deleted and sits upright, trying to find some inkling of concentration.

“ _ God damn it, Strange--” _ He mutters to himself under his breath, going back to his rhythm of typing. It's not as hard to type on a classic keyboard with his hand ache as it is to use his touch screen. He pondered on making some sort of head rig that would read his thoughts and transfer them to the computer like he was typing them, but he doesn't have the time today, or the dexterity. Still, it’s almost driving him insane how much slower his coding is when he has to work at the same time his boyfriend is off saving the dimension.

He feels another punch at the side of his abdomen, this time a bit more intense than the last. Stephen warned him that the work he was doing with Wong and a few more students from Kamar-taj could not wait. Something about protecting scrolls written by the Ancient One from interested henchmen of Sorcerer Supremes from other dimensions. He had no option on whether or not he had to join in, it was mandatory for all Master of the Mystic Arts. Whatever it is, Stephen is currently in a fight. Any bruises he's getting are being formed in his body but Tony's feeling every single punch and kick he's gotten so far.

A wave of pain suddenly knocks him from his chair, having him land on the floor as he clutches the back of his head. God it hurts. Did someone just fucking hit Stephen with a tire iron to his head? Knowing it's some magic hippie bullshit, it's probably the  _ Tire Iron Of Mordor  _ or something. Tony holds on to his desk and pulls himself up, groaning in pain. 

“FRIDAY, get me some Advil!” He barks out.

“Sir, the pain will not be sated if it's not taken by--”

“Just do it!”

She responds with a calm ‘ _ Yes, sir’ _ and commands a bot to get him two pills and some water. Yelling at FRIDAY always makes him feel bad, but he's in too much pain to care. Right now, his wrists hurt like hell and his legs are oddly tired. He assumes Stephen must be running from his attacker and using a bunch of convoluted spells to stop him.

He takes the cup of water and pops the two pills in his mouth, drinking them down then shooting the bot away. He can't sit down right now, not until he's sure the ass-kicking has stopped. 

From the sudden punch he feels on his arm, he assumes it's not any time soon.

“FRIDAY... I need to go to lie down. Help me lie d-down.” 

An old MARK-18 goes to help him stand upright, eventually having to resort to carrying Tony to the nearest sofa as he starts screaming.

He knows the sensation instantly. He’s never been burned like this but he knows what extreme heat and stinging pain feels like. Stephen got burnt in the thigh. Badly. Extremely badly. God, he hopes it's magic he can cure. He hopes he's okay.

His worry for Stephen is outweighed by the sheer panic in his voice, unfortunately.

“Fuck.  _ Fuck. Fuckfuckfuck _ . FRIDAY. FRIDAY, help! Please!” Tony feels his entire body clench up, writhing and desperately holding on to the fabric of the mattress as he tries to handle the pain on his leg. “ _ Please, baby.  _ I can't -- Oh, God.”

“What do you need me to do, Sir? Should I call Stephen? Should I notify an ambulance?”

“No! No, don't do any of that -- gaaaa _ aaaahfuck...”  _ His sentence devolves into a whimper. He grabs at his thigh desperately. And of course Stephen's hands have to act up  _ now _ . Great. It feels like he's grasping something very tightly. Hopefully a weapon to fight someone one. He lets out a whine. Stephen is  _ fighting _ with what feels like a  _ second-degree burn _ on one of his legs. What the fuck.

“I can overwrite your changes in your ChronicConnection applications and revert them to their original settings. Would you like me to do that, Sir?” The A.I asks after a brief pause.

Tony shakes his head and starts begging, delirious by the pain. “no.  _ Nooo _ ... I gotta prove... t-to Stephen that I can handle this. This is his break -- I can't. No. Don't--”

FRIDAY interrupts him before he continues babbling. “Very well.”

Tony breathes quickly.  _ Inandoutinandoutinandout _ . It almost feels like a good ol’ fashioned panic attack. He feels his arc reactor pulsing, warning him that he needs to calm the fuck down. Tony tries to slow down his breathing at least a bit. He places a hand over his arc reactor and shimmies himself off his pants off the other. Not wearing jeans doesn't make his pain feel any better, but at least he can pretend it'll somehow hurt less.

He turns to his side, eyes focused on nothing as he tries to keep himself together. He has to force himself to breathe slower, a sensation that never stops being familiar. 

“Stephen, baby,” he whispers out, hoping somehow the man he loves can hear him. “Please be okay. Please win. Damn it.  _ Damn it. _ ”

He hears an echo of a soft, feminine voice in his head speak, one he hears so often at moments like these.  _ Tony, what have you gotten yourself into now? _

He feels the sudden sensation of fingers curling around his neck and  _ squeeze _ . Tony claws desperately at the air around his neck for someone to stop. There are no hands there to pull off, no body above him to punch and kick. He is at the mercy of whatever is happening to Stephen miles and miles away. 

The sensation of being strangled while still being able to breath is a terrifying one. He can't imagine it's better for Stephen, who is currently getting choked without being able to feel it at all. Fuck, what if he can't feel himself losing his breath? What if he doesn't know if he's suffered any internal damage? Oh God, Stephen,  _ pleasepleasepleaseplease-- _

The grip on Stephen's neck lets go and stops. He feels a sharp ache in his right hand and assume Stephen had to result in punching his assailant. Tony gasps for air that isn't his, running his fingers over the skin of his neck, subconsciously wondering if it will leaves bruises on Stephen. He coughs violently, forced to spit and hit his chest to compose himself. FRIDAY brings him more water without prompting.

“Stay on the sofa, sir. You need to rest,”

Tony did as told, sitting up only to drink some more water and take one more Advil, this time for his headache. “FRIDAY,” he says weakly, “call Stephen. Please...”

“I am unable to reach him at this time.”

He drives his hand into the table beside him, creating a loud  _ thud  _ that echoes through the penthouse. “ **_Fuck!_ ** ” 

FRIDAY offers some comfort quickly, “he might be busy at the moment, sir, seeing as he was just in an intense fight and all.”

It doesn't bring Tony any peace of mind, his thoughts automatically go for the worse possible outcomes. He's losing too much blood and somehow Tony can't feel that. The burns and strangulation made him pass out in the middle of the fight. He imagines Stephen dying quietly through some magic mumbo-jumbo where it’s quick and painless, leaving Tony to never know what happens. 

The device is supposed to turn off if the patient is passing away, giving the both users the notification on their phone on whether or not they want to help their other go through the pain of death or let them withstand their pain alone. The fact that it's an option people can now take is so frightening and beautiful, but Tony fears he might have tampered with the code to much that the notification isn't a viable option. At any moment, he could feel a sudden surge of pain, mixed with all the others, and it could mean the end. We wonders if it would cause his arc reactor to shock and fail. He wonders if there's a possibility where he dies alongside Stephen, separated by opposite sides of the world.

Instead of a sudden surge of pain, he hears limping, running footsteps of someone coming after him. Tony sits up and sees Stephen, panting and sweating like he just ran a marathon. The cloak is on his shoulders, though it leaves its usual place and looms cover them like a protective entity, watching in silence in case anything else happens. It looms into the background of Tony's mind as all his focus goes on Stephen. The man sits in beside the sofa and stares at him, hands in front of him like he wants to reach Tony but can’t bear to touch him. Tony wants to yell at him to lean closer, but all he can do is stare in shock and horror about what has happened.

He gets a good look at Stephen now -- his has a bruise under one of his eyes, and fingers marks decorating the pale skin on his neck. He assumes the worst ones are hidden by his robes. Tony’s eyes look down to Stephen’s and he moves his longer robes out of the way of his thigh. The fabric has been slashed open around the leg, revealing burnt flesh, bubbles and all. Stephen’s hands tremble now even without the pain and he's the one to break the silence, still not touching him.

“Tony...” his voice sounds so endlessly tired, cracking like he's about to shatter completely. “Tony, I'm so sorry. I couldn't warn you. Oh, baby.”

Instead, Tony shatters first. 

He covers his face with his hands. He doesn't want Stephen to see him like this: heaving for air and shaking from both the pain and the panic. He knows it's stupid. Stephen has seen him in worse situations. He's seen Tony at the end of the world. Tears threaten to fall but he won't let them, at least not until Stephen finally reaches over and gently moves his hands away, kissing him as an apology. Tony closes his eyes so he doesn't have to see the bruises.

“Darling,” the sorcerer says between kisses, “Anthony, I am so sorry. I didn't have the time. We were ambushed. But I'm okay now. I'm okay.” Stephen speaks like he doesn't believe a word he's saying.

Tony shakes his head, “No.” He fists the fabric of Stephen's robes, carefully avoiding any bruise as he knows where every single one is. “No you aren't. What the fuck happened?  _ What the  _ **_fuck_ ** _ happened!?”  _ He's so angry and he has no idea why. “Stephen you could have died! T-The burn! Oh God, the burn on your leg.”

“Tony, I need you to calm down.”

“I can't! I felt everything! Every fucking thing! Id this what you go through every time you fight?! Jesus christ!” Tony shakes Stephen, trying to understand. Stephen does not get angry, nor does he begin to panic in response.

“What happened was an ambush attack that was complicated and resulted in injuries, but was resolved.” He speaks slowly, like he's addressing a child. His hands reach out to wipe Tony's face. “No one was lost, Wong and other masters manages to finally seal them off from our dimension. I was burnt by an elemental spell while protecting a student--”

“How long does that take to heal! Fuck, Stephen -- I should call an ambulance! FRIDAY--” 

Stephen interrupts him back, and tells FRIDAY to do no such thing. “Breathe, my love. Look closely...” He moves the fabric aside again, showing Tony the worse of his burns. 

He twirls his fingers between them and Tony watches as a small bag conjures over his hand. Stephen opens it, it fills the air with a strange scent of spices and medicine. The sorcerer pours the mix over his burns. Tony almost passes out as he watches the herbs and powder catch a steady, purple flame.

He closes his eyes and waits for it to hurt but it never come. It does little to calm his anxiety at first, but Tony focuses his eyes on the strange fire and slows his breathing. He only then realizes that Stephen is speaking.

“-- _ sinew to sinew. Bone to bone. Muscle to muscle and vein to vein. Heal my body so that we might be whole again. Sinew to sinew. Bone to bone --” _

It continues a few more times as the fire slowly dies down, crackling and turning into small embers that go out over Stephen's flesh. Underneath the flame there is now healthier skin, rejuvenated back into what there was, with only a scar to show that it ever happened. With a movement of his hands the fabric on his robes starts to mend itself until it's whole again. Tony no longer feels a stinging pain, any ache in his body is from the bruises and Stephen's hands.

Stephen stares at the scar. A new one among many. 

Tony gulps, “So you can just heal like that? That simple?”

“It is not as simple as it seems.”

He won't even pretend that he can understand Stephen's magic. He shakes his head in disbelief and pulls Stephen close again. The sorcerer reaches up to touch his face, his head against Tony's own. His eyes aren't closed but he isn't looking at him either. 

“Why... Why can’t you do that with your hands?”

“That was only a burn. They're easier, just like bruises and cuts. My hands are different. The magic that can cure them is not magic I want to use.”

Tony’s hand fall to his lap. He feels a gentle brush of a thumb running over his cheek. “That doesn't make sense. I thought magic could do anything.”

“I can. It should. It can't. I shouldn't...” Stephen still won't look at him. “Nothing ever makes sense. It’s just the way things are. But I think... I think that makes life interesting, don't you think?”

Tony doesn't. He wants things to make sense, he wants every action to have a reason that he can understand. “That sounds like a terrifying way to live.”

“It is. But everything  _ is  _ terrifying, unpredictable, we're so small...” He trails off and looks at Tony. “It makes every moment feel important and worth fighting for, even if it results in a few cuts and bruises.”

Tony closes his eyes this time. He can't handle such openness, the sort of tenderness that makes him angry he didn't find it before. It feels like a weakness. Stephen sees it as a sort of sanity. 

Eventually, their emotions settle down but they do not go away. Like a steady flame that cannot burn. Stephen and Tony lie down beside each other on the sofa, the cloak still hovering beside them in case anything happens. 

“I thought you were going to die,” Tony admits because there is no other chance he’ll get to say it. “I thought I would have to feel it.”

“Me? Die like that? From a ambush fight surrounded by other masters? Never. I've already died too many times to die again in such a boring way,” Stephen jokes in his usual odd sense of humor. Tony gives him a bit if a smile, as much as he can force himself to.

Tony caused this. Everything that happened today was his fault. In a way, he's happy he took the pain for Stephen. It was the reason he tampered with the apps in the first place, but he didn't sign up for this kind of pain. In reality, he didn't really know what he signed up for in the first place. 

Stephen takes his hand and kisses his knuckles, “I am so sorry I made you go through this. I hope this is resolved soon.” 

Tony sighs, blinded by his own bad decisions. “Same here.”

“I hate seeing you go through my pain. After this is fixed, I'm don't want to do a transfer for a while,” Stephen admits. “It feels weird not having it for so long. Like I lost a part myself.”

“You... You actually miss it?”

Stephen looks embarrassed. “In a way, I suppose I do.” Nothing else is said for the rest of the night.

Tony settles his head and rests it on his boyfriend's chest. He hears a heartbeat and pretends it's his own. 

  
  


\---

  
  


It takes far too long for Tony to realize that  _ none _ of the pain in his hand is cause by his own movements. It wasn't until the  _ incident _ , as they're calling it, that he realized how serious it all was. 

It's every single reaction of Stephen's nervous system. Meaning any odd movement, twist of the wrist, bend of the fingers that Stephen makes is felt by Tony and Tony alone. This doesn't include all the other pain in his body. Tony once again had to remind himself of how it all worked all over again when Stephen was showering with hot water and Tony had to barge into the bathroom begging him to stop, feeling the skin on his back sting from the sudden heat. For a moment, he thought Stephen was being burned again. It's a feeling he'll never be able to forget.

It's all made Stephen extra careful, even more doting. He tells Tony whenever he’s going to press a button, or go to the bathroom, or even do a spell that requires more than a few hand movements. Tony almost feels guilty, but he's sure it'll be no time before the worry dwindles down and Stephen can enjoy his couple of pain free days doing something fun. 

It all comes crashing down in a second. All because of a random shot of pain in his wrist. It feels like a dozen needles are pressing inside his skin and the pain keeps constant. Tony stops from typing a document to bend where he sits, unable to stop himself from crying out.

Stephen runs to him immediately, already helping him out of his seat and guiding him towards the bed, suddenly remembering it’s his hands he should be worried about.

Tony sits back on the mattress, face no doubt filled with discomfort even as he tries to calm Stephen down. “Baby, baby. What happened? This feels worse than usual.”

Stephen clears his throat, trying to keep his cool. “I-It happens. Most likely a pinched nerve. Or one of many... It's random, just ride it out, Anthony. It will go down gradually.” Stephen tries to keep his hands and arm as steady as possible, but he uses his hands when he speaks, and doesn't notice when he moves his arm and Tony groans out in pain again, hand trembling more than usual. 

“How the fuck do you deal with this?” Tony asks a bit louder than he would have liked, a hollow laugh masking his frustration.

“It happens. I grew used to it. The first times are terrible, I know. But I'm here, I'll lie down next to you so I won't move.” He speaks clinically, reassuringly. Tony shuffles as much as he can and Stephen lays down next to him, arms at his side as to not create any more unnecessary pain. Tony does the same, thought his frown at the discomfort doesn't go away. He feels like two bodies at a morgue from how little they move, and from how much he tries to steady his breath so his arc reactor won't act up.

Tony laughs again, “This fucking sucks. This sucks. You said this happens often?”

Stephen nods, “Yes. Well, more often than I'd like, but not every day. More like... every other week.”

“I don't know how you can do it.”

“I told you, I've grown to live with it. You, on the other hand, have only had my pain for a few days at a time. I was just like this for my first few months. Worse, actually.” Stephen turns his head to face him. Tony can't bear to do the same and see the look on his face. “I'm so sorry you have to take on the burden. I hate seeing you like this. I wish that stupid app would fix itself soon so we can go back to normal.”

Tony has to bite his tongue from saying anything. He keeps his eyes fixed on the ceiling, that way Stephen can't make out whether or not he looks guilty. Damn it. “Yeah, well -- just a few more days, babe. We already went through the worst of it, it's fine.”

Stephen shakes his head, “It isn't. I'm sorry, I wish there was something I could do, but magic can't stop this... Well, you know.”

“What about pills?” Tony asks, this time looking at Stephen. The sorcerers face grows heavy, serious. He avoids Tony's eyes. 

“I... I'm not taking any more medication. I'm sorry, Anthony. I just can't.”

Tony stared at him, baffled. Why would a former Doctor not want to take any actual medicine? He scoffs, “What? Why? Don't tell me you're wizard training got you into that holistic medicine bullshit too.”

Stephen does not even offer him a pity laugh or smile. He speaks slowly, voice lower than usual. “Tony... during my surgeries and my recovery I was very dependent on opioids. It almost became an addiction. I had to get help for it at Kamar-taj when I ran out of fentanyl.”

Tony opens his mouth to speak the closes it, the realization of Stephen's words dawning on him until his pain becomes a sudden afterthought. 

This was a mistake. This had all been a mistake.

“I-I... I didn’t know.” 

“It's okay. I wasn't planning on telling you, if I'm honest,” Stephen grits his teeth before he continues. “Christine saw the worst of it, as did Mordo and the Ancient One. I didn't want you to know because I didn't... I didn't want your opinion of me to change.”

God, he was such a dick. Look at what you did, Tony. All he wanted to do was give Stephen a break from his own torture and ended up making both of them in pain and miserable.

“But I'm better and I haven't touched pain medication in years, I deal with it in my own way. I'm sorry, Tony, but I can't risk it. This is what I meant when I mentioned falling back into bad habits. The worst habits possible.”

“Do you still want it sometimes?”

Stephen closes his fists slowly on instinct. “Desperately.” 

Tony shuts his eyes and keeps himself calm. Now is not the best time to admit what he did. It's probably the worst time, actually. Beside him, Stephen sits up on the bed and looks out the window, a habit he likes to do when he's thinking, or when he doesn't want to think at all.

The pain gradually subsides, just like Stephen said it would, but it takes longer than Tony would have liked. It goes back into the soft ache that has now grown familiar. Stupidly, frustratingly, unnecessarily familiar. He move his hand to hold Stephen’s. Stephen looks back at him with all the trust in the world and lies back down beside him, tracing soothing runes over his body to help him sleep.

He can still stop this. He'll fix the app tomorrow and they can go back to normal.


	3. Chapter 3

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> “—if I loved you less, I might be able to talk about it more. But you know what I am.”  
> — Jane Austen, Emma
> 
> (an exploration in love and anxiety)

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> wow! thanks to everyone who followed and liked this fic. finding a proper ending for this was.... difficult. there were more dramatic endings i could have chosen but i eventually chose this. i hope you all like it.
> 
> comments and kudos are appreciated <3

The universe never lets Tony catch a fucking break.

He was going to tell him this morning, the instant that they woke up. Over a relaxing breakfast where he would tell FRIDAY to rewrite the tampered code and he could pretend nothing ever happened. Stephen would go back to his own body instead of the uncanny valley reality they’ve had to live with for the past week and a half.

Of course, this is the fucking day that a group of aliens decide to attack Los Angeles. The same ones they had defeated a couple of weeks ago that Wong was supposed to turn in to the Galactic Union Detention Center. According to him, he _had_ , but it seemed they were more interested in breaking interdimensional law just to get some petty revenge than to stay in a detention center for a couple hundred years.

Now that he thinks about it, Tony probably would have done the same.

“What’s the status up there, Tony?” asks Steve from where he manages the ground team. He hears the man grunt and punch something over intercom, most likely an alien’s face.

“Great. Rhodey’s finishing up the main saucer with Danvers and I’m taking care of the little guys.” He aims for three at once with rocket launchers, watching them falls to the ground rapidly and on fire. “Got three heading your way, Strange.”

Stephen, always the most focused during the Avengers missions where he _actually_ finds it necessary to help, flies toward the falling aircrafts. “On it, Stark.”

He watches Stephen and Wong create portals under each piece alien, ship, and piece of debris that makes it way towards the ground, letting all the trash fall in a empty lot where it can be picked up later. As it turns out, Stephen is _very_ against letting a city get destroyed even if they’re busy trying to him win, so Wong and him are fine with taking up clean up duty. Beside them, Vision handles the civilians calmly. It’s a stark contrast from seeing Stephen conjure portals all around the sidewalks as quickly as possible to have people land into the safer zone of the city.  

Tony goes back to focusing on the task at hand, watching each attacker fall one by one. Stephen’s hand pain is minimal today, he barely remembers it’s there as he zips between their small fighter ships, FRIDAY already following her directive to shoot at what appears to be the engine whenever it’s in line of sight. It’s enough to keep them distracted as they get the comm that Rhodes and Danvers successfully took down their command. Both Wong and Stephen work together to transport the entire destroyed mothership to the proper _Terran_ oversight this time before they hand them over to any galactic officials. Their technology doesn’t seem any more advanced than aliens they’ve already defeated. Tony helps move and finish off the last few remaining aircrafts with ease, watching them all fall down for Stephen to handle.

“Strange, last four on your way. Two small ships, a piece of metal, and a fucked up alien dude,” he says into the open comms.

An answer never comes. The comm goes quiet for a second.

“Stephen? Do you copy?”

Tony hears something crash into the road. Then comes the pain.

Tony feels a burn on his shoulder as he begins to fall to the ground like the rest of the debris. FRIDAY stops before he crashes but it doesn't stop his screaming.

She lands him on the middle of the road as quickly as possible, the suit now on autopilot. Tony musters the strength to touch the button that opens his mask and starts breathing in as much fresh air as he can. The pain is on his shoulder, like he was shot with something, and he can barely breathe. Tony reaches with his unharmed hand to tend to the wound but feels nothing. No damage, no blood.

 _Stephen_.

“Strange? Baby? Can you hear me!?” Tony yells into the comms between winces of pain. “Strange?!”

“We are coming to you, Stark. Stephen was shot by a rogue assailant. Ze was apprehended,” Wong answers calmly into his ear.

“W-Wait! What?!” He asks and is quickly answered by a sudden flash of light beside him. Wong comes through the portal with Stephen on one arm, barely able to stand.

Wong helps Stephen lie down on the cleared asphalt, clearly also distressed and trying to help his friend. “Stephen, that’s it. I will help you.”

Stephen nods weakly and does as told. Even without being able to feel pain, he imagines Stephen can feel all the exhaustion that comes after a serious injury. Which, by the way, still hurts like hell. Tony can barely keep his eyes open to look at his boyfriend for long.

“Tony... it's okay. Wong will patch me up in no time,” he says beside him, smiling slightly. “He's a pretty okay doctor himself.”

“Even when you are injured...” Wong mumbles, but it can still be heard over the comms. “Rogers, Stephen has been hurt as has Stark. I am tending to Strange's wounds now, he’ll be okay. You will need to continue to clear the area yourselves.”

Steve answers quickly, “Copy that. We can handle it. Update me on their status when you can.”

“Roger, Rogers.” Wong answers, and Stephen snorts weakly beside Tony as he closes his comms, not interested in hearing anyone else right now.

“Nice one, Wong.”

Wong knees beside Stephen and begins some sort of magical bullshit that makes his hands and eyes glow. “I always wanted to say that.”

Tony screams as another sudden ache shoots through his shoulder to one of his hands. He can’t take this. “Hurry the _fuck up, please!”_

“Stark, this will hurt. Brace yourself,” Says Wong. He doesn’t give Tony the time to answer as he presses his hands against Stephen's wound. Tony covers his mouth to muffle his screaming as Stephen creates a field around them that should trap in all the sound from the outside world.

“ _Fuck._ **_Fuck_ ** _._ Oh my god. Damn it, Stephen! What the fuck happened!?”

Stephen groans, “Tony, please calm down. I got shot and I didn't see zir. Trust me, I would much rather I went through this than you had to.”

“Really? Would you fucking want that?!” Tony growls, laughing at the sheer amount of pain as the wound is being magically cauterized.

“Tony, please--”

“You can have it back _right now_! You want it?! I can literally give it to you right in the middle of this!”

Stephen stares at him. “What?”

“I don’t want this shit anymore! I can’t do anything! I already have to worry about my fucking heart enough!” Tony feels delirious, like he’s in half a panic attack and half a mental breakdown. He starts hyperventilating, and Stephen tries to sit up to help him before Wong pushes him back down, urging both of them to stay put.

Tony shakes his head, “I can’t. I can’t. Oh, fuck.”

“T-Tony?” Stephen asks, voice quiet and confused.

Tony closes his eyes and whimpers. “ _Damn it!_ FRIDAY, reverse the fucking coding! Put it back to normal and transfer the pain back!”

FRIDAY does as told without any comment. The pain leaves him in a sudden shock. _All_ the pain, for the first time in ages. It's his body. Completely. Beside him, Stephen gasps and grabs onto Wong's hand as the spell finishes it’s job.

It leaves his hands for last, feeling the pain at the tip of his fingers until it vanishes, but the ache in his chest remains.  
His eyes dart to his lover's now shaking hands. Stephen welcomes the tremor like an old friend. It probably is.

The wounded sorcerer is covered in sweat, gritting his teeth at the sudden change in his body, but he doesn't scream. He doesn't say anything at all. Stephen only stares at Tony, a rage in his eyes he's never seen on the man before, teeth gritted but his face is not twisted in the pain of a being fucking shot. The anger outweighs everything else.

Wong removes his hands from Stephen's chest, eyes darting from Tony to Stephen and back, no doubt picking up on the clues. He clears his throat and stands up. “Ah, well... I hope to hear from you soon, Stephen. Do you need any more help?”

Clutching at Wong’s hands and arms, Stephen stands back on his feet. “No, I don’t any help at all.”

Wong senses the tension in Stephen’s eyes and leaves with a nod.

Stephen waves his hand and the forcefield goes away, not taking his eyes off Tony. The other sorcerer walks off to the rest of the Avengers quickly.

With a hand clutching to his healing wound, Stephen steps in front of Tony, gaze still trained on him as he forms a portal to Tony's penthouse.

Tony still feels himself shaking. The panic has not left nor has the attack. He presses a hand against his arc reactor, tapping it out of anxiety.  _Tap-tap-tap-tap-tap._ A habit he knows drives Stephen crazy, but he can't help it. 

“Baby--”

“Home. _Now_.”

Stephen walks through the portal without waiting for Tony, who follows behind quickly in fear of what might happen if he hesitates. The change from random Los Angeles street to his penthouse in the Avengers tower is very sudden, and going through Stephen's portals still makes him nervous.

The suit dematerializes back into the reactor on his chest, leaving him with his undersuit on. The blood stain has already left Stephen's robes and he looks as pristine as ever. Stephen looks down at his hands and watches them tremble. He clenches his fists rapidly, making them hurt to make sure the pain is his own.

“What did you do, Tony?” He speaks calmly, but each word is bleeding with something rising between the pauses.

Tony looks down for a moment before he answers. “I... I changed the coding in the apps that would not allow you to transfer the pain back to yourself for a while.” He can’t lie to Stephen anymore, not like this.

“But it’s... mine. I didn’t say you could take it for yourself. It is not something I want to give. Why?”

“...I wanted to give you a break. You needed one and this app came along and let us test it. I knew it was something that would work perfectly for us but I just wanted to see you happy again. Playing piano, doing stuff without any pain. Being your old self.”

“Do you think my hands don't allow me to be completely happy? Is that how you see me?” Stephen moves one step closer and all the blood leaves Tony's face. “My old self is the person I _never_ want to be again, Anthony.”

“I know now but I thought I could--”

“You thought wrong. I knew this app was going to be a mistake. I knew I should have suspected something when you kept insisting on taking it for so long but I didn't think the man I love would be so _entitled_ and _desperate_ to prove something.”

Tony shut his mouth, wishing the aliens had shot his body instead.

“How long?” Stephen asks. “How long were you going to keep it?”

“Two weeks. It was gonna be two weeks originally, but after you admitted your past... problems, I was going to change it back today.”

Stephen stares at him.

“I swear it was going to be today. This morning. The attack distracted me and I couldn't do it mid-briefing or fight so I was going to wait until the fight was over.”

“And you were going to lie and tell me if was just a bug?”

Tony’s eyes lock with Stephen, and his entire world feels it’s shattering. “Yes. Yes, I was.”

“Anthony, what would have happened if the app malfunctioned for real? Did that thought ever cross your mind? You would have been unable to use the suit anymore. I wouldn’t be able to do my job properly in fear of hurting you. Wong has worked double time to cover for me for... what? A prank?”

“It wasn’t a prank, baby. I swear,” Tony lets out a nervous chuckle. “Those have to be funny.”

“The fact that you even thought of it is laughable enough.”

Stephen looks like he's about to say something else, but hunches over at the pain in his shoulder. Their conversation made him forget he was shot. Tony sees his hand glow as Stephen whispers words in a language he doesn't recognize. Tony flinches in response, expecting to feel the same, but all he can do in stand and watch Stephen try to fix this wound in silence.

Tony shakes his head, “I thought it would help you...”

“Help me what?”

“It would help you stop hurting yourself and sacrificing yourself all the time. You got shot today and didn't even care. You got burned and stabbed and fucking turned to _dust_ and you brush it off. I thought maybe... if you had a break from your hands... you could at least not have that for a while.”

Stephen finally stands upright and takes his hand away from his wound. The spell left a hole in his hopes, as if it was burned away, and Tony no longer sees the cauterized blaster wound, not even a scar to prove it was ever there. Stephen doesn't usually hide his scars, not anymore, unless they're from a moment he wants to forget.

“Anthony... Of course I care. I dream about those things every single night. I remember every single moment I died. But I do things that might seem reckless because they're necessary, you do the same. I decided to take this life because I want to, just as you did.” Stephen shakes his head like he can barely believe it all has to be said. “I allowed us to do this because I trust you. I trust you entirely and you took advantage of that trust to do something that you thought would be good but it almost drove me insane with how worried I was all the time for your well-being.”

“Stephen, I just--”

Stephen looks down at him and speaks softly. There's no more anger in his voice. He just sounds exhausted, his words crack as he speaks. “Why don't you trust me?”

How could he let things get this terrible? Tony thought it was enough to try to make something meaningful. It wasn't. Oh god, do something. Do something. Do something.

“I do. I do. I did something stupid and I'm sorry, okay? I was an idiot. And I don't want this to end what we have. I should have talked to you. I should have fucking asked you want you wanted instead of playing this dumb trick.”

Tony looks at Stephen expectantly for an ‘apology accepted’ but gets nothing. Stephen is looking at the ground, fiddling with his hands in front of him. Tony wants to say something better and eloquent. He thinks of the day in the cafe, when he brought it up in the first place. If he were a better man, he would take Stephen hands and move for a kiss, and unspoken apology that needs no further explanation. But Tony is a realist, he doesn't live in a romance novel. He stands in silence, watching Stephen’s shoulders slump, and tries to guess what happens underneath.

“I need time to think about this. We've been attached by the hip for the past two weeks. I just... I need some time, Tony.”

Tony wants anything but. He wants Stephen to stay so he can prove he's a good boyfriend who wants nothing but his well-being. Tony just watched it all crumble into pieces, like every other fucking thing he touches.

“You’ll come back afterwards?” He asks, trying not to voice his fears.

Stephen looks at him and lets his hand fall to his sides. He meets his eyes, full of a worry Tony has grown so used to seeing yet hates all the same. “Yes. Of course I will.”

That calms him down a bit, at least. It doesn't stop him from shaking. His teeth clatter and he feels like he needs to run or sleep for three days, he isn't sure.

Stephen walks through a portal to the Sanctum, only giving him a glance before it closes behind him. If Tony knows if enough, he'll pour himself into his magical work and distract himself from everything else until he simply can’t anymore. But recent events have proven he may not know Stephen at all.

He will never understand Stephen's pain and Tony will never understand his. Physical and mental. Two sides of of the same coin, but oh so different, just like them. He wishes this could become a better memory of him simply trying his best to be good. It won't. He isn't.

 

\---

 

Stephen does come back as promised.

Another week passes before they speak again. Tony spends his time in his workshop the entire time. FRIDAY reminds him to eat, shower, and sleep. It's a protocol he programed himself for times like these, because they are often. He does as told this time, thought. A subtle paranoia creeps into his head that Stephen could come at any moment, just barging in through a portal in the middle of the day. He doesn't want him to find Tony barely looking like a person. It’s a good motivator for executive dysfunction, at least.

When Stephen does come, he appears above Tony in the middle of the night. His astral form, Tony recalls. His first instinct is that it's Stephen ghost coming to haunt him. So, of course, he yells.

“Tony, my love, it's me.” He says quietly. Tony calms down quickly and stares at Stephen’s currently half-invisible form. “Can I come in?”

Tony wipes his eyes. He was almost falling asleep this time, almost. FRIDAY turns on the lamp on his nightstand without prompting.

“Yeah. Yeah, come right in.”

The astral projection dissipates immediately as a circle of light forms next to his bed. Stephen comes through dressed in shorts and a red bathrobe. Tony knows it's the cloak in a different form just by a glance. The relic unties itself from Stephen’s body and hovers in the corner, giving them space.

“You came back...” Tony looks at Stephen like he just saw an angel. “How are you?”

“Tired. Couldn't sleep,” Stephen sighs. “Can I lay down with you?”

Tony moves the covers without a word. Stephen slips beside him, movements groggy and clearly exhausted. Tony hasn't slept well since Stephen left. His body has grown used to Stephen's presence -- the heat of his body and the cold of his hands. Runes traced against his skin to help him get the sleep that Stephen cannot. Comforting words spoken in the middle of nights that feel terrifying. Flesh against heated flesh, blushing and grasping at each other to feel everything, everything, everything. Tony feels Stephen settle against him and he lets out a breath he's held in for days.

“How are you?” Tony asks, turning to face Stephen.

“I'm alright. My shoulder’s better. My hands are the same.” A thumb brushes against his jaw. “I missed you.”

“I missed you too.”

Stephen feels contempt with the silence. Tony never is, not completely. Stephen's hand cups against cheek, simply watching him with tired eyes and a hint of a smile. Tony wished Stephen liked taking pictures more so he could save the look on his face forever.

“I can delete the app,” Tony begins carefully. “We can get the chips removed.”

“Now let's not do anything drastic just yet. Maybe we can use it again someday. Not anytime soon, though.”

“Are you sure?”

Stephen pauses, “you're right, that’s probably for the best.”

“Thought you would think that way.”

"It's good to be back in my own body," Stephen says. "Completely, despite everything."

"I'm glad you are. You look wonderful."

Stephen's smile falters, “I still don't understand why you did it, though. Just what were you trying to prove?”

Tony rests his own hand on top of Stephen's, “I think... I think I just wanted to know what you were before everything. Without everything.”

“Without my scars I wouldn't be here now with you. Without the pain I would still have the memory of it and what I used to be. And trust me... the old me was very much like the old you. We would have hated each other.”

Stephen’s mouth turns into a smile at his last comment, letting out a soft laugh. Tony speaks without thinking, “no. There’s no universe where I could hate you.”

Stephen breaks eye contact as he speaks, whispering into a quiet room. “That’s... pretty romantic. I'm impressed --” he pauses. “-- but you would be surprised, actually.”

He's thinking about his visions on Titan again. Even now, Stephen refuses to talk about what he saw, what he went through. Tony has only managed to gather a few snippets of stories here and there. Timelines where Stephen saw die. Timelines where horrible, unspeakable things happened. Timelines where Tony killed Stephen. Years lived and gone, no wonder Stephen pined for him in silence for so long. Tony only wished he could have known sooner.

“We're here now, sweetheart,” Tony says, trying to comfort him. “With all of our fuckups. Well, with all of _my_ fuckups.”

“I'm glad you're mature enough to accept most of the fuckups are your fault.” Stephen smiles at the fake shock on Tony's face. “Trust me, I'm glad we have our fights at this. Can you imagine if we dated when we were Peter's age? I would have broken up with you 4 times already.”

“But you came crawling back anyway,” Tony smirks.

Stephen looks at him again, resigned with a tired smile that makes Tony fall in love all over again, “Yes. I did. Gods help me.”

Tony’s eyes shoot up, taking Stephen's hands in his own as a surge of ideas rush through his mind. “Babe, we won't ever use the _ChroCon_ anymore but now that I got to know what it feels like I got a couple of ideas! Gloves that automatically massage and heat your hands--”

“My yellow gloves that you hate so much already do that.”

“Wrist bracelets that steady your shaking so you'll be able to write! Or a pencil that gyrates in place against your shaking!”

“Tony...”

“Hold on, baby, what about a ring that can--”

“Anthony!” Stephen yells out. Not angrily, but loud enough to snap him out of his train of thought. He hadn't realized he was yelling back.

“Anthony, please. I know you mean well, and the fact that you're willing to invent things for me is wonderful, but I don't need those things. If you make them, make them for people who don't have magic or a rich boyfriend. I'm fine. I know I am. And I need you to know that too.”

Stephen takes his face by his chin, making sure Tony is looking at him this time. That he understands. Tony hunches his shoulders, calmer now if not feeling slightly guilty.

“...Just wanna take care of you, that's all.”

“I think I can take care of myself, darling. I saved the our dimension a couple of times, remember?”

Tony rolls his eyes, but there's no ill intent behind it. “You never let me forget.”

A comfortable quiet begins to surround them, with only sounds of the city below that transform into white noise. Stephen breathes steadily against his chest, their size different making their positions a bit awkward but neither of them can bring themselves to care or move. Tony doesn't stop thinking about his ideas for inventions. Once he gets an idea he can never quite let it go, but Stephen is right. He can handle himself, better than Tony could.

It's just so hard to prove his love when he was to say it. Tony is, above all, an engineer. He creates things to show he cares -- about the world or the people around him -- anything he can do instead of mustering the courage to say _I love you_. Stephen was patient, he didn't say it easily either but he said it first without expecting the words in return. Tony loves him, he does.

Tony loves him to the point of creation. But what can he make for a man who needs nothing?

Stephen breaks the silence, reaching to touch Tony's face again. “There is _one_ thing I'll miss...”

Tony watches as Stephen moves until he's looming over Tony, straddling him by his hips. Sensual, but they both know they're too tired for any of that right now. “What?”

“The damage affected my sense of touch on my fingers. I can't... feel a lot of the things I touch.” He index finger runs over the long stubble on Tony's cheek. He didn't shave while Stephen was gone. “I can touch you without feeling you're there. I missed being able to feel you.”

“I can't... I don't know how to fix that,” says Tony, realizing the truth in his words as they fall from his lips. “Stephen... I--”

“It's okay, darling. It's okay. I’m just glad I could at least once. You gave that to me as a gift. In a way, it made this all worth it. I got to touch you, every part of you. Just as you did to me. And you made it impossible for me to ever ignore you... asshole.”

Tony remembers the sensation of getting shot. A sudden hollowness inside himself, it felt like slowly losing a part of his body. It feels just like that now. Suddenly hollow, even if the sight of Stephen above him should make him feel good no matter the situation. Tony grips Stephen's thighs. The man above him smiles at the implication, but Tony is just trying to grab Stephen to make sure he's real. What did he do to deserve this kind of understanding? Tony has never felt a closeness like this.

Tony opens his mouth to say something meaningful.

“Well, you know you can touch me anytime you want, baby. You don't even need to use your hands.”

He doesn't.

His tries to keep his voice steady and cool, but each word comes out more nervous than the last. Between each word there is a natural pause made longer by his terror that Stephen could sense the unspoken.

He wonders if the man can read minds, but he knows Stephen has the decency not to or else he would have known so much far too early. He would have seen right into Tony's white lies and hidden feelings. He doesn't understand why he has to hide anything. This is the man he loves. Why can't he trust him either?

Stephen lowers his face to whisper to his ear. “Ever the romantic,” he says and drags his hands from Tony's face to his ribs, his waist, and up again in a soothing motion. A ghost of a breath hitches against his neck, teasing something else entirely. Tony closes his eyes and feels each shiver burn down his spine.

Stephen rolls off him and they're back to their original cuddle. “Tomorrow, maybe. I'm too tired. Good night, sweetheart.”

Tony doesn't bother opening his mouth this time and nestles against Stephen, pretending that he's already gone to sleep.

He needs this story to have a better ending.

Tomorrow. He'll say it tomorrow.


End file.
